A Trail of Healing
by McMoni
Summary: Tag to the episode "Trail of The Serpent". After rescuing Mike, Steve might need to be rescued, too.


**AN: Thanks to Tanith2011 for betaing this. You always manage to come up with wonderful suggestions.**

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything related to the show, and no profit is being made. So...don't sue me, please!_

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><p>Cold. Everything felt cold. Everything <em>was<em> so cold down in the morgue. The temperature, sure, but then the colors, too, and the white lights and the surfaces. Nothing but steel and tiles.

And cold was the lifeless body of the young boy Steve had shot and killed a few hours ago, a member of the street-gang that had kidnapped Mike and held him hostage the night before.

Richard Sung. "_Richard_," Steve repeated the name under his breath, clinging to the only information he had about the dead boy. Richard.

He let his gaze wander around the room, only mildly aware of the goose bumps on his arms. Whether the cause was the cool temperature of the chamber or the dead body lying inside, he didn't know, although he suspected it was probably the latter.

He hadn't consciously meant to come down there. He had no reason, really. He had just found himself there, and now seemed totally unable to tear himself away from the damn place and force his body back to the office.

He was tired, dead tired, confused and worried. And he felt hollow inside.

Maybe, if he'd done things differently, the boy would still be alive. Maybe, if he'd searched harder, he could have found some clue that led to the place where Mike was held and saved time, sparing his friend hours of pain and misery.

And Richard could still be alive.

He was so absorbed in his own misery that he didn't even notice that he wasn't alone in the room anymore. He snapped out of his musings with a jerk when he suddenly felt someone touching his arm. Lenny.

"Hey," Steve feebly greeted the psychiatrist.

"Hey yourself," Lenny replied with a small smile, his hand still gently placed on Steve's arm.

It felt warm, reassuring and comforting. The slight contact was exactly what Steve needed at that moment.

"I was looking for you," Lenny said.

Steve stared at his friend, a little taken aback. "Lookin' for me? Why?" Then, as understanding dawned, he nodded. "Oh, yeah, right. The Department wants me to...they think I need counseling or somethin'...? I don't…"

Now it was Lenny's turn to frown in confusion. "The Department? No, it's just... _I_ was looking for you, just wanted to make sure you're all right."

"Oh." Steve rubbed a hand on his face, running his palm on the bristly stubble covering his face. When was the last time he'd shaved? The last time he'd been home? Yesterday morning - but it felt like ages. "Yes, I'm fine," he finally said. "I'm not the one lying on that table, " he bitterly added, jerking his chin toward the dead boy, "or in a hospital bed."

Lenny slowly nodded, his eyes boring into Steve's. "Why don't we go somewhere warmer?" he finally suggested.

Steve merely nodded, too tired to argue. He wasn't actually in the mood for company, but, truthfully, he probably wasn't in the mood for anything. And, after all, he knew there was no reason for him to stay there. There was nothing more he could do.

He let the older man steer him away from the room, out into the last warm rays of sunlight and he was surprised that it was already late in the afternoon. _Where had the past hours flown? _He glanced at his watch and did a quick math. If he hurried up, he would still have time to stop at the hospital to see Mike before visiting hours ended.  
>"I need a coffee," he mumbled under his breath.<p>

"What about something to eat instead?" Lenny suggested. "I skipped lunch and I'm starving. I guess you haven't eaten much, either. Why don't you keep me company?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Lenny, but I was about to go to see Mike," the young Inspector apologized. "I guess I'll grab something to eat later."

"You know, I've just been at the hospital," the psychiatrist objected. "Mike was sleeping when I left, and the nurse told me he's probably not going to wake up until tomorrow. Pain meds and sedatives," he explained. "I assure you he's fine. There's no need for you to go there tonight. He's just resting; why don't you see him tomorrow morning?"

Steve shook his head. He didn't like the idea. Sure, he trusted Lenny's judgment, and he had spoken with the doctor a few hours ago; he _knew_ that Mike was going to be fine. It was just he wanted to check on his friend with his own eyes. "But…"

"Steve, listen to me," Lenny cut him off. "Mike _is_ fine. You're tired and stressed and you need to rest." He put his hands on Steve's shoulders and met the younger man's eyes. "You won't help anyone by wearing yourself out. I'll promise I'll take you to the hospital first thing in the morning. Just take it easy tonight, OK?"

Steve opened his mouth to protest further, but he knew it was pointless. Judging by Lenny's expression, he wasn't going to budge and take no for an answer. He sighed and reluctantly nodded. "Alright."

"Good," Lenny smiled, giving Steve's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Let's go, then."

OOOOOOO

They were sitting at a table in a nice bar Lenny had chosen, a companionable silence surrounding them. Steve was content just to sit there. Although he was physically and mentally too tired to talk, he guessed he wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he wanted to, taut and nervous as he was.

He let his gaze wander around the small establishment, his thoughts far away. He couldn't stop thinking about that dreadful moment, when he had barged into the room where Mike was held and seen the young kidnapper, Richard, holding his friend at gunpoint. It must've lasted a couple of seconds, tops, but, as Steve relived the ordeal in his mind again and again, he could see it all happening in slow motion. He could feel the emotions, the paralyzing fear all over again. In his mind he relived the sensation of his own hand tightening around the gun, his finger squeezing the trigger.

And all he could see was Richard falling dead on the floor, again and again.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he only just realized Lenny must have asked him something and, judging by his friend's expression, he was waiting for an answer too.

"Sorry Lenny, I guess I was someplace else," Steve apologized, blushing. "What were you saying?"

Lenny smiled. "I was just asking what you're going to have for lunch?" he patiently repeated, tapping a finger on the worn menu he was holding. Steve, too, had one opened in front of him - he just hadn't even started reading it.

"Huh, I'll just get a sandwich or something," Steve shrugged. "I'm not really hungry."

He waited until Lenny placed their orders with the waitress who, Steve realized, had probably been hovering around waiting for them to decide, then he said with a grimace, "I know I'm not being good company right now - sorry."

Lenny smiled, shrugging off the comment. "Don't worry, it's understandable."

"I just - I just can't stop thinking that maybe, if I'd done things differently that boy would still be alive," Steve blurted out. "God, I've never been so scared before in my life. It all happened so quickly, and then the boy was dead, and Mike was so pale...for a moment I thought I was just too late, that he was not gonna..." he trailed off, looking away. The mere thought sent shivers crawling down his spine.

"But you weren't too late," Lenny gently said. "Mike is going to be fine."

"Well, maybe not too late for Mike," Steve commented with a bitter smile, still refusing to meet Lenny's eyes. "But for Richard…."

"Steve..."

"I mean, he was so young," the Inspector shook his head disgusted. "And after I killed him, I was so shaken that I didn't even check on Mike! He was hurt, bleeding, he'd been held hostage for the whole damn night, and...he even tried comforting me! Would you believe it?" Steve snorted, disgusted with himself. "He was in misery and he was the one comforting me, instead of the other way around!"

"Steve, listen to me," Lenny cut the younger man off. "If you weren't shaken by what happened, only _then_ would I be very worried. It's natural to feel that way, it's human, and Mike knows it because he's been there before." He placed his hand on Steve's forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "As for young Richard...he had chosen his way of living his life knowing what the risks were. He made yet another foolish choice when he helped the gang take Mike and hold him hostage at gunpoint. Now I'm not saying he deserved to die," Lenny hurriedly said, cutting off Steve's objection. "Nobody does. But you can't even blame yourself for his choices."

"Yeah, well …maybe he was going to change," Steve quietly defended. "It's not like he was living the good life. He had it rough and he made mistakes. Maybe he had a different future ahead, but we'll never know that now because I killed him."

"Maybe," Lenny agreed, his tone as quiet as Steve's. "But maybe not." Lenny paused as the waitress put the plates in front of them, and he nodded his thanks. "And you know better than me that a rough past is never an excuse. There are a lot of people who had to deal with tough times, but not everybody turns into a criminal."

He planted his hand on Steve's arm, and waited until the younger man finally met his eyes. "You're the one who didn't have a choice, Steve. And you can keep thinking about this morning for years, wondering what you could have done differently or if there was a better way to deal with it, but there's no way to go back and change it. You can't let it eat you up." The psychiatrist shook his head, sadness and compassion clear in his tone. "You can't save the whole world Steve, none of us can, and you've got to live with that with and accept it."

Steve held Lenny's gaze, his eyes boring into the psychiatrist's, looking for reassurance and comfort. Then, he finally nodded, a small, sad smile on his lips. "I guess you're right."

"I'm always right," Lenny grinned. "Psychiatrist, remember?" He threw a look at the inviting meal in front of him and his smile grew wider. "A starving psychiatrist, right now."

Steve's smile morphed into a laugh, and he found himself surprised at how good, liberating and somehow natural it felt to be laughing again. "I'm making you work overtime, huh?"

"Nah, I'm not working. Just enjoying a meal with a friend," Lenny replied. " You know, you're supposed to be eating that too," he amended, pointing at the yet untouched sandwich on Steve's plate, "otherwise it's more like you're watching me eat instead of having lunch together."

Steve lifted his hands in mock surrender, still smiling. "You win!" He took a tentative bite of his sandwich suddenly realizing how hungry he was. He had had nothing to eat the whole day, except for a snack he had bought at the hospital vending machine before going back to the office as well as several cups of coffee. It didn't take him long to demolish the sandwich.

The Inspector bit back a yawn. It had been a long day – a long couple of days, actually – and the frantic, stressful hours were beginning to take their toll on him.

He rummaged into his pockets for some change, but Lenny stopped him with a shake of the head. "Don't worry – my treat," he said, getting up as he placed a few bills on the table.

Steve got up, too, and yawned again, blinking several times. He was finding it increasingly hard to stay awake. "My car is back at the precint," he mumbled.

"Ah, don't worry, I'll drive you home," the psychiatrist dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. "I'll swing by tomorrow morning and drive you to hospital, OK?"

Steve frowned. "You're sure it's OK?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Lenny rolled his eyes. "And, anyway, my car is parked just outside. It's much closer than yours. This way we won't have to walk all the way back to Headquarters."

"You' had it all planned out, didn't you?" Steve suspiciously accused, but he was smiling.

"Who, me? Nah. Must be a coincidence," the psychiatrist grinned, guiding the younger man to his car.

The short drive to Steve's house was mostly spent in silent, since Steve was almost dozing in the passenger seat, and it wasn't long before Lenny finally parked in front of the younger man's house.

He gently nudged his passenger's arm, trying not to startle him. "Hey, Steve, we're here."

Steve blinked and smiled sheepishly. "Mmmh. Definitely not good company today, huh? I even fell asleep on you."

"I won't take it personally," Lenny laughed, "as long as you don't make a habit of it!"

"Thank you, Lenny," Steve quietly said. He opened the car door but didn't get out. He turned, meeting the psychiatrist eyes, his gaze serious. "For listening, for the advice... for everything."

"Anytime, Steve. Anytime."

OOOOOOOO

Sitting in the car, Lenny pensively observed the young Inspector as he tiredly climbed up the stairs that led to his apartment and closed the door behind him.

Many people in the Department had wondered, at the beginning of their partnership, what Mike had seen in his younger colleague and many others, still now, marveled at how such different people could work this well together.

But Lenny wasn't fooled. Oh, sure, at face value they appeared different; _very_ different, sometimes, both in experiences and lifestyle. But the inner truth was far from this. The two men shared a unique bond, a deep connection so instinctive that Lenny sometimes wondered whether they realized it or not.

The psychiatrist shook his head in amusement as his thoughts took him back to his lunch with Steve then to an earlier conversation with Mike.

Steve had been worried for Mike, and he was feeling guilty for not being able to find his friend earlier; on the other hand, Mike, too, had expressed his concern for Steve and the traumatic experience he'd had to endure.

They had both been hurt that night, but not all the wounds could be fixed and healed with a few stitches.

They had been lucky enough to find each other some years ago, and Lenny knew it was a bond destined to last.

How it had happened - how both of them had managed to fill a void in the other man's life - remained a mystery; but then again, he mused, human relationships were always an inextricable mystery.

He started the engine and, after a last, quick glance to the Inspector's house, he sped away, a small smile lingering on his lips.

Yes, human nature was something of an enigma that he found profoundly fascinating.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading.<strong>


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